III

"BAD MEDICINE"

The evening before the Cherokee Strip was thrown open for settlement,
a number of old timers met in the little town of Hennessey, Oklahoma.

On the next day the Strip would pass from us and our employers, the
cowmen. Some of the boys had spent from five to fifteen years on this
range. But we realized that we had come to the parting of the ways.

This was not the first time that the government had taken a hand in
cattle matters. Some of us in former days had moved cattle at the
command of negro soldiers, with wintry winds howling an accompaniment.

The cowman was never a government favorite. If the Indian wards of the
nation had a few million acres of idle land, "Let it lie idle," said
the guardian. Some of these civilized tribes maintained a fine system
of public schools from the rental of unoccupied lands. Nations, like
men, revive the fable of the dog and the ox. But the guardian was
supreme--the cowman went. This was not unexpected to most of us.
Still, this country was a home to us. It mattered little if our names
were on the pay-roll or not, it clothed and fed us.

We were seated around a table in the rear of a saloon talking of the
morrow. The place was run by a former cowboy. It therefore became a
rendezvous for the craft. Most of us had made up our minds to quit
cattle for good and take claims.

"Before I take a claim," said Tom Roll, "I'll go to Minnesota and peon
myself to some Swede farmer for my keep the balance of my life. Making
hay and plowing fire guards the last few years have given me all the
taste of farming that I want. I'm going to Montana in the spring."

"Why don't you go this winter? Is your underwear too light?" asked
Ace Gee. "Now, I'm going to make a farewell play," continued Ace. "I'm
going to take a claim, and before I file on it, sell my rights, go
back to old Van Zandt County, Texas, this winter, rear up my feet, and
tell it to them scarey. That's where all my folks live."

"Well, for a winter's stake," chimed in Joe Box, "Ace's scheme is
all right. We can get five hundred dollars out of a claim for simply
staking it, and we know some good ones. That sized roll ought to
winter a man with modest tastes."

"You didn't know that I just came from Montana, did you, Tom?" asked
Ace. "I can tell you more about that country than you want to
know. I've been up the trail this year; delivered our cattle on the
Yellowstone, where the outfit I worked for has a northern range. When
I remember this summer's work, I sometimes think that I will burn
my saddle and never turn or look a cow in the face again, nor ride
anything but a plow mule and that bareback.

"The people I was working for have a range in Tom Green County, Texas,
and another one in Montana. They send their young steers north to
mature--good idea, too!--but they are not cowmen like the ones we
know. They made their money in the East in a patent medicine--got
scads of it, too. But that's no argument that they know anything
about a cow. They have a board of directors--it is one of those cattle
companies. Looks like they started in the cattle business to give
their income a healthy outlet from the medicine branch. They operate
on similar principles as those soap factory people did here in the
Strip a few years ago. About the time they learn the business they go
broke and retire.

"Our boss this summer was some relation to the wife of some of the
medicine people Down East. As they had no use for him back there, they
sent him out to the ranch, where he would be useful.

"We started north with the grass. Had thirty-three hundred head of
twos and threes, with a fair string of saddle stock. They run the same
brand on both ranges--the broken arrow. You never saw a cow-boss
have so much trouble; a married woman wasn't a circumstance to him,
fretting and sweating continually. This was his first trip over the
trail, but the boys were a big improvement on the boss, as we had a
good outfit of men along. My idea of a good cow-boss is a man that
doesn't boss any; just hires a first-class outfit of men, and then
there is no bossing to do.

"We had to keep well to the west getting out of Texas; kept to
the west of Buffalo Gap. From there to Tepee City is a dry, barren
country. To get water for a herd the size of ours was some trouble.
This new medicine man got badly worried several times. He used his
draft book freely, buying water for the cattle while crossing this
stretch of desert; the natives all through there considered him the
softest snap they had met in years. Several times we were without
water for the stock two whole days. That makes cattle hard to hold
at night. They want to get up and prowl--it makes them feverish,
and then's when they are ripe for a stampede. We had several bobles
crossing that strip of country; nothing bad, just jump and run a mile
or so, and then mill until daylight. Then our boss would get great
action on himself and ride a horse until the animal would give
out--sick, he called it. After the first little run we had, it took
him half the next day to count them; then he couldn't believe his own
figures.

"A Val Verde County lad who counted with him said they were all
right--not a hoof shy. But the medicine man's opinion was the reverse.
At this the Val Verde boy got on the prod slightly, and expressed
himself, saying, 'Why don't you have two of the other boys count them?
You can't come within a hundred of me, or yourself either, for that
matter. I can pick out two men, and if they differ five head, it'll be
a surprise to me. The way the boys have brought the cattle by us, any
man that can't count this herd and not have his own figures differ
more than a hundred had better quit riding, get himself some sandals,
and a job herding sheep. Let me give you this pointer: if you are
not anxious to have last night's fun over again, you'd better quit
counting and get this herd full of grass and water before night, or
you will be cattle shy as sure as hell's hot.'

"'When I ask you for an opinion,' answered the foreman, somewhat
indignant, 'such remarks will be in order. Until then you may keep
your remarks to yourself.'

"'That will suit me all right, old sport,' retorted Val Verde; 'and
when you want any one to help you count your fat cattle, get some of
the other boys--one that'll let you doubt his count as you have mine,
and if he admires you for it, cut my wages in two.'

"After the two had been sparring with each other some little time,
another of the boys ventured the advice that it would be easy to count
the animals as they came out of the water; so the order went forward
to let them hit the trail for the first water. We made a fine stream,
watering early in the afternoon. As they grazed out from the creek we
fed them through between two of the boys. The count showed no cattle
short. In fact, the Val Verde boy's count was confirmed. It was then
that our medicine man played his cards wrong. He still insisted
that we were cattle out, thus queering himself with his men. He was
gradually getting into a lone minority, though he didn't have sense
enough to realize it. He would even fight with and curse his horses to
impress us with his authority. Very little attention was paid to him
after this, and as grass and water improved right along nothing of
interest happened.

"While crossing 'No-Man's-Land' a month later,--I was on herd myself
at the time, a bright moonlight night,--they jumped like a cat shot
with No. 8's, and quit the bed-ground instanter. There were three of
us on guard at the time, and before the other boys could get out of
their blankets and into their saddles the herd had gotten well under
headway. Even when the others came to our assistance, it took us
some time to quiet them down. As this scare came during last guard,
daylight was on us before they had quit milling, and we were three
miles from the wagon. As we drifted them back towards camp, for fear
that something might have gotten away, most of the boys scoured the
country for miles about, but without reward. When all had returned
to camp, had breakfasted, and changed horses, the counting act was
ordered by Mr. Medicine. Our foreman naturally felt that he would have
to take a hand in this count, evidently forgetting his last experience
in that line. He was surprised, when he asked one of the boys to help
him, by receiving a flat refusal.

"'Why won't you count with me?' he demanded.

"'Because you don't possess common cow sense enough, nor is the crude
material in you to make a cow-hand. You found fault with the men the
last count we had, and I don't propose to please you by giving you a
chance to find fault with me. That's why I won't count with you.'

"'Don't you know, sir, that I'm in authority here?' retorted the
foreman.

"'Well, if you are, no one seems to respect your authority, as you're
pleased to call it, and I don't know of any reason why I should. You
have plenty of men here who can count them correctly. I'll count them
with any man in the outfit but yourself.'

"'Our company sent me as their representative with this herd,' replied
the foreman, 'while you have the insolence to disregard my orders.
I'll discharge you the first moment I can get a man to take your
place.'

"'Oh, that'll be all right,' answered the lad, as the foreman rode
away. He then tackled me, but I acted foolish, 'fessing up that I
couldn't count a hundred. Finally he rode around to a quiet little
fellow, with pox-marks on his face, who always rode on the point, kept
his horses fatter than anybody, rode a San Jose saddle, and was called
Californy. The boss asked him to help him count the herd.

"'Now look here, boss,' said Californy, 'I'll pick one of the boys to
help me, and we'll count the cattle to within a few head. Won't that
satisfy you?'

"'No, sir, it won't. What's got into you boys?' questioned the
foreman.

"'There's nothing the matter with the boys, but the cattle business
has gone to the dogs when a valuable herd like this will be trusted
to cross a country for two thousand miles in the hands of a man like
yourself. You have men that will pull you through if you'll only let
them,' said the point-rider, his voice mild and kind as though he were
speaking to a child.

"'You're just like the rest of them!' roared the boss. 'Want to act
contrary! Now let me say to you that you'll help me to count these
cattle or I'll discharge, unhorse, and leave you afoot here in this
country! I'll make an example of you as a warning to others.'

"'It's strange that I should be signaled out as an object of your
wrath and displeasure,' said Californy. 'Besides, if I were you, I
wouldn't make any examples as you were thinking of doing. When you
talk of making an example of me as a warning to others,' said the
pox-marked lad, as he reached over, taking the reins of the foreman's
horse firmly in his hand, 'you're a simpering idiot for entertaining
the idea, and a cowardly bluffer for mentioning it. When you talk of
unhorsing and leaving me here afoot in a country a thousand miles from
nowhere, you don't know what that means, but there's no danger of your
doing it. I feel easy on that point. But I'm sorry to see you make
such a fool of yourself. Now, you may think for a moment that I'm
afraid of that ivory-handled gun you wear, but I'm not. Men wear them
on the range, not so much to emphasize their demands with, as you
might think. If it were me, I'd throw it in the wagon; it may get you
into trouble. One thing certain, if you ever so much as lay your hand
on it, when you are making threats as you have done to-day, I'll build
a fire in your face that you can read the San Francisco "Examiner"
by at midnight. You'll have to revise your ideas a trifle; in fact,
change your tactics. You're off your reservation bigger than a wolf,
when you try to run things by force. There's lots better ways. Don't
try and make talk stick for actions, nor use any prelude to the real
play you wish to make. Unroll your little game with the real thing.
You can't throw alkaline dust in my eyes and tell me it's snowing.
I'm sorry to have to tell you all this, though I have noticed that you
needed it for a long time.'

"As he released his grip on the bridle reins, he continued, 'Now ride
back to the wagon, throw off that gun, tell some of the boys to take
a man and count these cattle, and it will be done better than if you
helped.'

"'Must I continue to listen to these insults on every hand?' hissed
the medicine man, livid with rage.

"'First remove the cause before you apply the remedy; that's in your
line,' answered Californy. 'Besides, what are you going to do about
it? You don't seem to be gifted with enough cow-sense to even use a
modified amount of policy in your every-day affairs,' said he, as he
rode away to avoid hearing his answer.

"Several of us, who were near enough to hear this dressing-down of the
boss at Californy's hands, rode up to offer our congratulations, when
we noticed that old Bad Medicine had gotten a stand on one of the boys
called 'Pink.' After leaving him, he continued his ride towards the
wagon. Pink soon joined us, a broad smile playing over his homely
florid countenance.

"'Some of you boys must have given him a heavy dose for so early
in the morning,' said Pink, 'for he ordered me to have the cattle
counted, and report to him at the wagon. Acted like he didn't aim to
do the trick himself. Now, as I'm foreman,' continued Pink, 'I want
you two point-men to go up to the first little rise of ground, and
we'll put the cattle through between you. I want a close count,
understand. You're working under a boss now that will shove you
through hell itself. So if you miss them over a hundred, I'll speak to
the management, and see if I can't have your wages raised, or have you
made a foreman or something with big wages and nothing to do.'

"The point-men smiled at Pink's orders, and one asked, 'Are you ready
now?'

"'All set,' responded Pink. 'Let the fiddlers cut loose.'

"Well, we lined them up and got them strung out in shape to count,
and our point-men picking out a favorite rise, we lined them through
between our counters. We fed them through, and as regularly as a watch
you could hear Californy call out to his pardner 'tally!' Alternately
they would sing out this check on the even hundred head, slipping a
knot on their tally string to keep the hundreds. It took a full half
hour to put them through, and when the rear guard of crips and dogies
passed this impromptu review, we all waited patiently for the verdict.
Our counters rode together, and Californy, leaning over on the pommel
of his saddle, said to his pardner, 'What you got?'

"'Thirty-three six,' was the answer.

"'Why, you can't count a little bit,' said Californy. 'I got
thirty-three seven. How does the count suit you, boss?'

"'Easy suited, gents,' said Pink. 'But I'm surprised to find such good
men with a common cow herd. I must try and have you appointed by
the government on this commission that's to investigate Texas fever.
You're altogether too accomplished for such a common calling as claims
you at present.'

"Turning to the rest of us, he said, 'Throw your cattle on the trail,
you vulgar peons, while I ride back to order forward my wagon and
saddle stock. By rights, I ought to have one of those centre fire
cigars to smoke, to set off my authority properly on this occasion.'

"He jogged back to the wagon and satisfied the dethroned medicine man
that the cattle were there to a hoof. We soon saw the saddle horses
following, and an hour afterward Pink and the foreman rode by us, big
as fat cattle-buyers from Kansas City, not even knowing any one, so
absorbed in their conversation were they; rode on by and up the trail,
looking out for grass and water.

"It was over two weeks afterward when Pink said to us, 'When we strike
the Santa Fe Railway, I may advise my man to take a needed rest for a
few weeks in some of the mountain resorts. I hope you all noticed how
worried he looks, and, to my judgment, he seems to be losing flesh.
I don't like to suggest anything, but the day before we reach the
railroad, I think a day's curlew shooting in the sand hills along the
Arkansas River might please his highness. In case he'll go with me, if
I don't lose him, I'll never come back to this herd. It won't hurt him
any to sleep out one night with the dry cattle.'

"Sure enough, the day before we crossed that road, somewhere near
the Colorado state line, Pink and Bad Medicine left camp early in
the morning for a curlew hunt in the sand hills. Fortunately it was
a foggy morning, and within half an hour the two were out of sight
of camp and herd. As Pink had outlined the plans, everything was
understood. We were encamped on a nice stream, and instead of trailing
along with the herd, lay over for that day. Night came and our hunters
failed to return, and the next morning we trailed forward towards the
Arkansas River. Just as we went into camp at noon, two horsemen loomed
up in sight coming down the trail from above. Every rascal of us knew
who they were, and when the two rode up, Pink grew very angry and
demanded to know why we had failed to reach the river the day before.

"The horse wrangler, a fellow named Joe George, had been properly
coached, and stepping forward, volunteered this excuse: 'You all
didn't know it when you left camp yesterday morning that we were out
the wagon team and nearly half the saddle horses. Well, we were. And
what's more, less than a mile below on the creek was an abandoned
Indian camp. I wasn't going to be left behind with the cook to look
for the missing stock, and told the _segundo_ so. We divided into
squads of three or four men each and went out and looked up the
horses, but it was after six o'clock before we trailed them down and
got the missing animals. If anybody thinks I'm going to stay behind
to look for missing stock in a country full of lurking Indians--well,
they simply don't know me.'

"The scheme worked all right. On reaching the railroad the next
morning, Bad Medicine authorized Pink to take the herd to Ogalalla
on the Platte, while he took a train for Denver. Around the camp-fire
that night, Pink gave us his experience in losing Mr. Medicine. 'Oh,
I lost him late enough in the day so he couldn't reach any shelter for
the night,' said Pink. 'At noon, when the sun was straight overhead, I
sounded him as to directions and found that he didn't know straight
up or east from west. After giving him the slip, I kept an eye on him
among the sand hills, at the distance of a mile or so, until he gave
up and unsaddled at dusk. The next morning when I overtook him,
I pretended to be trailing him up, and I threw enough joy into my
rapture over finding him, that he never doubted my sincerity.'

"On reaching Ogalalla, a man from Montana put in an appearance in
company with poor old Medicine, and as they did business strictly with
Pink, we were left out of the grave and owly council of medicine men.
Well, the upshot of the whole matter was that Pink was put in charge
of the herd, and a better foreman I never worked under. We reached the
company's Yellowstone range early in the fall, counted over and bade
our dogies good-by, and rode into headquarters. That night I talked
with the regular men on the ranch, and it was there that I found out
that a first-class cowhand could get in four months' haying in the
summer and the same feeding it out in the winter. But don't you forget
it, she's a cow country all right. I always was such a poor hand afoot
that I passed up that country, and here I am a 'boomer.'"

"Well, boom if you want," said Tom Roll, "but do you all remember
what the governor of North Carolina said to the governor of South
Carolina?"

"It is quite a long time between drinks," remarked Joe, rising, "but I
didn't want to interrupt Ace."

As we lined up at the bar, Ace held up a glass two thirds full, and
looking at it in a meditative mood, remarked: "Isn't it funny how
little of this stuff it takes to make a fellow feel rich! Why, four
bits' worth under his belt, and the President of the United States
can't hire him."

As we strolled out into the street, Joe inquired, "Ace, where will I
see you after supper?"

"You will see me, not only after supper, but all during supper,
sitting right beside you."